


And In The Darkness Bind Them

by Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels)



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003), Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, April Showers Challenge 2011
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-28
Updated: 2003-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-18 15:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/pseuds/Lanna%20Michaels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings: Extreme darkness. Sexual slavery.</p>
    </blockquote>





	And In The Darkness Bind Them

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Extreme darkness. Sexual slavery.

  
I am a warrior of Gondor. I have gone into battles more times than I care to remember. I have lost more friends than I care to forget. But that is all so meaningless now.

Aragorn values me more for the shade of my skin, the curve of my cheek, the price I could fetch at auction should Aragorn choose to sell me. Aragorn values me for the flatness of my stomach, for the strength of my thighs, and the tightness of my ass. I did not train as a soldier all my life for this to be my fate.

Aragorn believes, falsely I am confident to say, that I want him. He certainly wants me. I have wanted for nothing in my life save the glory and salvation of Gondor. Unlike my brother, I never prayed for a king to come out of the ages and claim the empty throne as his own. I never wished, as many did, for the true Numenorean to be lord above us all. I was a warrior of Gondor, and _I fought for my country_.

And it was because of my country that I undertook the endless trek to find an answer to a riddle. Gondor's salvation, I was certain, rested in the outcome of my quest. I had no way of knowing what Gondor's true salvation would be.

I reached Imladris to discover it deserted. None dwelled in the trees and brooks and I saw not a soul until I reached what I could only assume was the palace. There I was met by servants and told that I had been seen from afar. As to who did the seeing, I was not told. The servants were oddly short and I was later told they were hobbits. Only much later, while in bed, did Aragorn tell me that the hobbits were the halflings of my riddle.

I was brought to Aragorn and forced to my knees. He made me tell him my name, my country, and my purpose in wandering the wilds of Arnor. Arnor was his, said he, and no Gondorian was welcome. My country would have to pay the price of my audacity. Merely an excuse, of course. Aragorn would have claimed the throne even if I had never found Imladris. I was clasped in chains and confined to quarters. Aragorn's quarters. One of the halflings, Peregrin, fed me and took care of the necessary. Through him I discovered that two others of his kind were here, and a Dwarf as well. The Dwarf, Peregrin told me, was busy in the forge and would probably be killed upon completing his task.

His task?

The reforging of the Sword that was Broken.

Aragorn's part in history slowly became obvious. He was a descendant. He had stumbled upon an heirloom of such great importance that he never took it off his finger. He was coming to take back his inheritance, by force if necessary, and, somehow, he had killed the elves.

One night, so long ago I cannot remember when, Aragorn whispered to me the story of the rings and how they were all connected. As he kissed his way from my ear to my pierced nipple, he told me about how he had used the connection to kill the bearers of the lesser rings of power, and to then force the elves to kill each other. Then he had chuckled and bit down hard, forcing a scream from my throat.

Aragorn kept me in Imladris long enough to make certain I would not slip a knife between his ribs while he slept. A moot point, since Aragorn did not require sleep, and I was not allowed to be around steel. Aragorn set out to make me forget about who I had been before. He must not have been very set in his goals, since I can still remember everything about my past. Once Aragorn has decided to do something, it is done.

Aragorn took me back to Gondor, but we stopped in Rohan first. Saruman the White dwelt in Isengard and I was there the day Aragorn looked into the Stone and stole my father's mind. Now Denethor sits in the Steward's Chair, with the white rod in his hand, and never moves. He is the perfect display of Aragorn's power and none have dared to oppose the king since he mounted the throne.

I had never known Theodred well yet I had never thought he would bend to Aragorn's will so easily. Aragorn never bothered to explain it to me, and we spent several months under Rohan's welcome hospitality until Aragorn's kinsmen came down from the north. Aragorn wasted no time in introducing me to his second-in-command. There are very few people I welcome into my body and Halbarad is certainly not one of them. He has never been gentle with me, not looked like he was ever entertaining the thought. He would have had me tied up like Eomer, I am certain, had not I been strictly Aragorn's. Halbarad obeyed his king and Eru help those of us that were forced to relax him after Aragorn took out his frustrations on his kinsman.

The last I saw of Meduseld was a long lingering look back from the baggage cart. Warriors rode. I was a slave and the chieftain's slut and I wasn't even good enough to walk behind like a camp follower. I pitied Eomer. He had never been anything but nice to me in his life, and he was to spend the rest of his life tied to a column by Theodred's throne and treated like a dog. Theodred's homage to Aragorn was his cousin Eowyn, a thoroughly arrogant woman who was to serve as royal breeder. Aragorn had no need of heirs, but children could be trusted more than servants. And it amused the king very much to watch a stable boy throw the queen to the ground and use her like a whore. Aragorn's lesson was that Rohan was inferior and beneath Gondor in all ways and I have never seen a lesson so eagerly assimilated. Only Theodred, as Aragorn's loyal subject, received any respect.

I really shouldn't be surprised. It's nothing less than what was done to me.

Aragorn paraded me through the streets and let all of Minas Tirith touch any part of my body that they wished. I was allowed no covering but a heavy silver collar against my shoulders inscribed with my name. Later Aragorn would replace the collar with a white scar upon my right cheek. He used a knife to make the æ sign of his kingship. All were to know that Aragorn Elessar owned Boromir son of Denethor and that there was no escape once the king held you in his grasp.

Aragorn never bothered to try to break my will. I suppose it amuses him to keep around a bed slave that would gladly see him hang. He is content with arousing me and watching as I cannot help but feel pleasure in his touch. He mocks me this way, I know. I am nothing to him but a way to seal his claim to the throne. I give him legitimacy. Boromir serves; therefore the king must be righteous. If only they knew the terms of my servitude.

I receive nothing but pain and misery from the king. Halbarad is the king's second and who he goes to when he wants tenderness. I am merely his captive. Long ago, my father spited the king and Aragorn has never forgiven Denethor for it. I was too young at the time to remember, but I must have done something, else I would not be receiving the full force of Aragorn's vengeance. Faramir, not yet born at the time, has been given my former position of captain of the host. Faramir, I know, serves in Halbarad's bed, but from love, not coercion. Halbarad likes to whisper the differences between myself and my brother as he forces his way up my body and, when he spends himself inside me, I can almost feel Aragorn glowering from the corner where he watches.

I am no tamed pet that lounges around on his master's bed awaiting the night. Aragorn no longer keeps me chained, but he knows I will bite if not given incentive not to. A blow across the face will keep me in line, for the ring of Barahir is sharp enough to make me bleed. Aragorn is careful with the ring of his ancestors so when he puts his fist inside me, he uses his left hand. I should be thankful, but I am not.

One day I shall die. Eomer died like the dog he had become and it took, Aragorn delightfully whispered to me, eight days before the corpse got so that Theodred noticed and had it removed. I am merely the king's convenience, not his lover, and I shant even receive a memorial.

I was a warrior of Gondor. I fought in more battles than I care to remember. I have scars that tell of my bravery. I have seen my entire body bathed in the blood of those I killed. None dared call me coward or they would answer to my sword. I fought for my country.

This is one fight that I have lost.


End file.
